


Stay for dinner

by WickedCinnamonRoll



Category: The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game), The Walking Dead Game
Genre: Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Cuckolding, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Hunting Humans, Implied Sexual Content, Internal Conflict, Manipulative Relationship, Moral Dilemmas, Morally Ambiguous Character, Multi, Murderers, Other, set during s4
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2020-01-05 04:35:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18358736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedCinnamonRoll/pseuds/WickedCinnamonRoll
Summary: What happened after Eddie? What happened after Howe's Hardware? What happened after the death of it's leader? Where did Wyatt go? What did he become?Even he doesn't know.





	1. After dark

**Author's Note:**

> I know I currently have two other multi-chaptered fics atm but,,,,this is something I just had to write. It's another passion piece and extremely self-indulgent. Hell, this au first came from a dream and then I decided to expand on it. I don't really expect a lot of attention from it but that's okay

  The soft rustling of leaves along with the crunching of dead grass beneath Connell’s feet caused his fear as well as his caution to heighten tremendously, nearly reaching his limit with the addition of these two new sounds. His treading slowed, practically to an agonizing crawl, as he tried to traverse through the night, his eyes switching between the ground and spaces between the trees every so often. There seemed to be no threat of immediate danger or at least, not yet anyways. Things had a habit of being able to change drastically, especially when people are least expecting it. He wished he could pull out his flashlight, making it easier to spot clear ground not covered in leaves, however, the blinding light it held was not something he was willing to take a risk on. The dead could be lurking nearby and this would only draw more attention to himself, so he continued trudging on through the darkness, careful with each step he took.  ****  
** **

  His backpack weighed heavy on him and understandably so as it held every one of his belongings and supplies. One of the many downsides to always traveling and never really staying stationary for long. However, it also had many upsides, besides, his steady back proved the task to not be so difficult for him.  ****  
** **

  A chill gust of wind accompanied the eerie sounds of the night and goosebumps erupted from every inch of his body. He pulled back the drawstrings of his hoodie in a vain attempt to veil himself for the cold, but it proved to be pointless as the bumps intensified. He quietly exhaled into his cupped hands and hastily rubbed them together, which only barely helped a little more than his previous attempt to stay warm. ****  
** **

_Warmth._ ****  
** **

 This was a mantra he often found himself repeating to himself quite often and sometimes, he could swore he could actually feel that warmth, somewhere deep in his core. ****  
** **

_Warmth._ ****  
** **

 He could feel the hot coals within him begin to stir, if only slightly. ****  
** **

_Warmth_ ****  
** **

 He continued rubbing his hands together as another gust of wind whizzed by, causing the trees to slightly sway to and fro. ****  
** **

_Warmth._ ****  
** **

 Slowly but surely, he hands began to grow less numb and that internal feeling of warmth made itself known. It was so warm, he swore he could even _see_ it. A soft yellow light glowed far out into his vision. Almost inviting in a way. ****  
** **

_Warmth._ ****  
** **

 Before he could repeat that mantra anymore, he froze. That light was actually there and it was moving closer and closer by the second. It only seemed to be but a figment of his imagination due to the slight fog rolling it, making the light dim and fuzz. But once it clicked that it was really there, the panic began to set it. Someone else were in these woods and he wasn’t about to stick around to see if they were friendly or not. He cringed at the returning crunching noises beneath his feet as he moved off the path, looking for any potential hiding spots. He couldn’t risk quickly climbing a tree, worried that in a rush, he’d slip and fall, so he had to make due with one of the many nearby bushes. He crouched down as low to the ground as he could, wincing at some thorns sticking to whatever parts to him they touched. Shifting his hands around on the ground to get a getter grip, more thorns and tiny, sharp rocks poked into his calloused palms. The ground itself was wet and he could feel mud begin to sink in between his fingernails. Getting past the discomfort of his current situation, he held his breath. ****  
** **

 The steps of another person soon came into earshot and though the steps themselves were slow, they were also very deliberate. It had to be a living person...it just had to be. The glow of the person’s flashlight grew closer as he had to make himself stop shaking, both from the cold and from fear. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to slow down his heart rate and to calm himself before he could burst from the stress and terror he was feeling. The weight of his backpack seemed to intensify even more along with the stress. He could feel himself trembling and he could only pray that this didn’t cause the twigs or leaves to rustle too noticeable besides him. ****  
** **

  The steps halted and it felt like his heart did as well. ****  
** **

  In hindsight, he almost wished he died right then and there. At least then, maybe he’d be spared from what actually would become his fate. ****  
** **

  All he could do was continue to pray to whatever was out there. ****  
** **

_Please...not now...not this soon. I just left. It hasn’t even been a day-_ ****  
** **

  “Lose something there, friend?” ****  
** **

  Though he certainly was not expecting that soft of a voice to cut through the air, it still managed to send violent chills down his back at the mere fact he heard it at all. His blood ran cold and as he gulped, it felt like swallowing razor blades.  ****  
** **

  He felt something cold and metallic tap on his still lowered head.  ****  
** **

  “Hello?” Said the voice, almost in a sing song manner. “I can see you breathing, so I know you’re not dead.” ****  
** **

  Connell still refused to budge. His eyes began to grow fuzzy and his stomach somersaulted at least a dozen times just at the agonizing few moments of complete silence, save for the nearby crickets chirping. ****  
** **

  “I don’t _want_ to kill you,” The person sighed. “But if you don’t get up and make yourself better known, I just might have to do that.” ****  
** **

  His breathing quicken when he felt the metallic object, which he realized by this point was the barrel of a gun, press further into his head.  ****  
** **

  “O-Okay, okay.” Connell suddenly blurted out, his own voice trembling and low. ****  
** **

  He began to stagger up, hands up to show he wasn’t holding any weapons. All the while, the shotgun barrel stayed pressed firm against his forehead. ****  
** **

  Looking through the sweat and dirt that clouded his vision, he was surprised at what he saw but at the same time, not. ****  
** **

  The man that stood before him was the last person he’d expect to find holding him at gunpoint. Not only was he shorter than Connell, not really a surprising feat for most people as Connell stood at six feet, but he looked very clean-cut. Not a single smudge of dirt or blood droplet littered his face and though his head was partly covered by a hood, he could see that his hair actually looked combed. Connell couldn’t even remember the last time he touched a brush, much less, _used_ one. When the stranger smiled, Connell couldn’t help but be even more taken aback. He looked almost like a model and would be more at home in some magazine, not in the middle of the dark and dirty woods, pointing a gun at someone. ****  
** **

  “There we go.” He said calmly. “That wasn’t too hard, now was it?” ****  
** **

  He lowered the gun but even then, Connell was too scared to lower his own hands.  ****  
** **

  “What do you want?” Though he tried to stay strong, his voice still wavered. It wasn’t subtle in the slightest and he mentally kicked himself for it. ****  
** **

  “Now,” The man sighed, taking a step forward, now gently pressing the barrel to his chest. “That is something _I_ should be asking _you._ Not the other way around. I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt though and assume you don’t know where you are.” ****  
** **

  He wasn’t wrong. Connell quite literally had no idea where he was. At this point, he had no map or even a plan of where he wanted to go. All he could do was follow any nearby paths and hope for the best. The one time he went off track and _this_ is what he got. He would laugh if he wasn’t terrified. ****  
** **

  “Allow me to explain then.” He continued, taking Connell’s silent response as the answer he needed. “You are treading very close to our property. _Dangerously_ close, one might say. I’ll assume again you didn’t know and weren’t planning some kind of attack on us.” ****  
** **

  It felt like he was chewing on cotton. “N-No...fuck...n-no that’s not- I’m not even i-in a group. It- It’s just me.” ****  
** **

  The man gave a halfhearted shrug at the fractured reply. “Vicious attacks can still happen from lone wolves.” ****  
** **

  “You were right. I-I didn’t even know where I was. I didn’t even know there was other p-people around.” ****  
** **

  Still holding a calm demeanor, he considered Connell’s words  ****  
** **

  “I would like very much to believe you.” His smile returned as he lifted the gun away from his chest. “So I think I will.” ****  
** **

  Connell had never felt such strong relief in his life before that moment. His heart still continued to pound rapidly against his ribcage and sweat still refused to leave his brow, but at least the threat of death didn’t stand nearly close as it once did. ****  
** **

  “Besides, if it turns out your lying, it will only be a matter of time until that catches up with you.” ****  
** **

  Connell shook his head, still trying to steady his breath. “I swear...I’ve spoken nothing but the truth.” ****  
** **

  “Then you have nothing to worry about.” He said, sounding as if he was trying to soothe the man he held at gunpoint just seconds prior. “So, what were you doing out here?” ****  
** **

  “Just passing through.” He managed to level his tone only slightly. “I didn’t really have a destination in mind and just wanted to see where whatever path would take me.” ****  
** **

  “Yet here you are,” The man started, gesturing to the crowded forest floor with the barrel of his gun. “Off the path.” ****  
** **

  “I...wasn’t having the best luck with that, so I decided to go off it to see where it’d take me.” ****  
** **

  The man hummed in acknowledgment. “I see.” He glanced around the nearly pitch black and foggy woods. “Awfully cold and dark it is outside, isn’t it?” ****  
** **

  Connell stayed silent, yet him pointing it out almost made the air around him grow more frigid. He wanted so badly to run away or simply sink into the ground to escape from this. ****  
** **

  “I truly am sorry if I gave you a fright with this meeting.” It sounded strangely genuine and even kind. Connell tried to shake it off, but he continued. “As an apology, I insist that instead of continuing to become hopelessly lost in the dark, you come with me to my home. Just for the night. I may have mistaken you for a threat, but I wish you no ill will, so I wouldn’t want you to run into a walker or two as you simply try to get out of here.” ****  
** **

  To say Connell was at a lost of what to do would be an understatement. For as much as he did it, he hated the constant moving around on his own and always being on the lookout no matter where he went. He always wished for some kind of break and here one was presenting itself to him. Yet, when finally presented with it, he didn’t know what to do with it. The man had a gun pointed at his head then to his chest only moments ago, but more than anything did he want to believe that good people were still left on this earth. Afterall, the man was merely defending himself from someone near his property. Connell couldn’t judge him too harshly on that. ****  
** **

  “Perhaps if I introduced myself, I can better convince you.” He fully lowered his gun to his hip, only then taking his finger off the trigger. “My name is Vander. I live nearby with my wife, Viktoriya.” He held out his hand. “Hopefully, this makes up for my rude first impression.” ****  
** **

  Connell didn’t accept his hand at first. Instead, he continued to marvel at how cleaned he was. Barely any stains on his skin or dirt under his fingernails. In fact, they even appeared to be trimmed. Eventually, Connell reached out with his own mud coated hand, took ahold of Vander’s and shook. The small cringe that came from him on account of Connell’s hand didn’t go unnoticed by him, but it didn’t take him long to slap a smile back on his face. ****  
** **

  “Connell.” He muttered. ****  
** **

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Connell.” He retracted his hand and returned it to his side, slightly wiping away the muck on his leg. “Now, about my proposition…” He voice trailed off a bit as he glanced around. ****  
** **

  That’s when Connell heard the nearby groans of the dead. They couldn’t have been far and they only grew closer with each passing second. This sent his heart into a frenzy. ****  
** **

  Nevertheless, Vander’s calm expression never wavered. “Whatever your choice is, I suggest you make it fast.” ****  
** **

  Connell nodded, out of instinct, grabbing his machete from the holster on his hip, ready for any incoming walkers. “O-Okay...I’ll go with you.” With walkers now surrounding them, anything would be better than standing out in the open. ****  
** **

  Vander readied his gun as he smiled. “And the right choice it was.” He turned his back on him. “Please, follow me.”   ****  
** **

  Without any further confirmation from Connell, Vander started marching through the tall grass and bushes. Connell quickly followed after him, determined not to get lost that soon. With Vander’s flashlight, it made things much easier, but still had him worrying about attracting the nearby walkers. At one point, they sounded like they were right on top of them. ****  
** **

  That’s because they were. ****  
** **

  The face of a walker melted out through a bush as it wildly waved a mangled hand around, looking to grab whatever it could. Out of surprise, Connell first sliced off its hand and when it stepped out towards him, with another quick flick of his hand, the blade cut half of its head clean off. Blood splattered across his chest as it collapsed. Letting out, short, frantic breaths, he looked over to Vander, shinning his flashlight on him. ****  
** **

  “Close call.” He simply said before pointing the light to the now bloodied blade. “Good to know I’m traveling with someone competent...and good with their weapon.” ****  
** **

  All Connell could do was nod before they continued on their way.  ****  
** **

  After a few minutes of treading and pushing through the bushes, Vander spoke up again. “You’ll like our home. I don’t want to continue making assumptions, but I can assure you that you’ve never seen a place like ours. This isn’t any old run of the mill cabin in the middle of the woods with two loose planks for a door. It belonged to us before all this started and we’ve continued to keep it in good shape.” ****  
** **

  Connell didn’t expect much from it. As long as it had walls and a roof, he’d be happy with wherever they ended up. ****  
** **

  Vander clicked his tongue. “Ah, here we are.” ****  
** **

  “Man, you weren’t joking when you said I was close to-” His words died in his throat when they stepped into a clearing. ****  
** **

  If anything, Vander was underselling the place. Though it was dark, it would be impossible not to see the giant multi-level house that stood before them. It looked like a damn mansion and although money was more than useless during times like these, he could bet all the ammo in his backpack that yes, this place _would_ be considered one. It stood inside tall metal fencing that surrounded the house as well as the sizable amount of land around it. Vander walked up to the locked up gates and pulled out a key. As Connell inched forward, still in complete awe, he could see some light from within shining out through the windows. ****  
** **

  “The fencing is another especially exceptional feature.” His voice was almost a low buzz to Connell as he was too distracted to fully pay attention to his words. “It is quite frankly impossible for walkers to get in from any side, so the only thing we have to worry about are the people. We don’t exactly slip under the radar, even if we are more deep in the woods.” ****  
** **

  “Yeah…” Connell muttered, only barely comprehending his words. He swore he saw a shadow in one of the windows. ****  
** **

  The gate opened with a loud and long creek, which snapped him back down to earth. He saw Vander gesture inside. ****  
** **

  “After you.” ****  
** **

  Before going inside, he looked back up. The shadow was gone. He couldn’t let it eat away at him. He cautiously walked inside and after Vander joined him, he closed and locked the gate behind them. ****  
** **

  He could get a better look when inside and he stayed amazed as he looked around. The grass looked mowed and as green as grass could be, deeply contrasting with the dry and dying weeds he had been walking on before. It took him a moment that instead of the lush grass, he was tracking his feet against a stone pathway that lead right up to the door. He slowed his pacing, allowing Vander to go ahead of him. He thought he could relax once inside the gates, but a looming tenseness refused to leave his side and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake it off. His eyes scanned over a small stone fountain in the courtyard, but it appeared not to be on or working. ****  
** **

  “Connell?” ****  
** **

  The man in question blinked and looked over to Vander, one foot already on the first step leading up to his house. ****  
** **

  He tilted his head, a smile threatening to take over his lips. “Are you coming?” ****  
** **

  Connell stuttered a moment as he tried to gather his thoughts. “U-Um...yeah. Sorry, I just- I’m a bit speechless right now.” ****  
** **

  “Please, if anything, I’ll take it as a compliment.” And with that, he finished walking up all the stairs, going back to waiting for Connell near the door. ****  
** **

  It took some urging by himself, but he eventually walked up the marble steps, eyes unable to stay in one place, from the columns behind him to the first floor windows, dark maroon curtains partially hiding what lied inside. Vander pulled out another key, golden in it color, and wasted no time to getting the door open. He pushed it open and allowed Connell to once again, step inside first. ****  
** **

  As if he couldn’t become even more speechless, he entered. ****  
** **

  Bathing in both the light of candles and electrical lamps attached to the wall, Connell entered a world seemingly untouched by the apocalypse. His eyes traveled from grand staircases on either side of the room, to the open wall in the center that lead to a sitting area and finally to a large dangling chandelure that hung high over his head. It was like something out of a dream, the kind that dream where the lights were hazy and blurring in your eyes and the emotions you found yourself feeling were vague and unidentifiable to a more conscious version of yourself. Everything from the unpeeling wallpaper and neatly placed flower vases, not holding a single crack to them, was beyond otherworldly to Connell. It almost had him forgetting about the corpses they tried following him just before arriving. ****  
** **

  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Vander leaning his gun against the wall and slipping off his jacket. ****  
** **

  “Viktoriya!” He called, hanging up his jacket on a nearby coat hanger. “I’m home, dear!” ****  
** **

  His heart thundered when he could suddenly smell something wafting from another room. Something cooking. ****  
** **

  “I thought I saw a new face with you. Thank god I decided to wear one of my best dresses.” ****  
** **

  His attention was then directed to the right staircase and his heart refused to rest. ****  
** **

  A woman stood at the top of the stairs, decked out in a stunning floor length blood red dress, sticking tight to her frame. As she began to descend down, a hand clinging to the rail, her leg would every once in a while poke out from the slit that ran down her dress. Her heels clicked and echoed loudly through the room and Connell’s head. Along with the house, she too didn’t seem real and instead, something right out of a dream. ****  
** **

  She reached the ground floor, pushing back any stray strands of blonde hair as she approached the pair. ****  
** **

  “Dear, this is Connell. I found him while out hunting and thought he needed a bit of assistance.” Vander explained. ****  
** **

  She stuck out a delicate, ring covered hand. “Viktoriya. Pleased to meet you.”  ****  
** **

  It was only then when Connell felt self-conscious of his filthy hands. He attempted to wipe them off on his pants, only being partially successful. ****  
** **

  “Um,” He began awkwardly before carefully taking her hand into his own. “Nice to meet you too.” His eyes shifted between both parties of the couple. “I-I need to thank you both just for this alone. Your- Your husband said that I could spend the night. I-I hope that’s-” ****  
** **

  “Is that so?” Viktoriya asked curiously. She walked over to her husband’s side and that’s when he noticed she was a few inches taller than him. But to be fair, he could assume that was partially thanks to the heels. “Well, how generous of him. Of course it is alright. We certainly have the room for it.” She chuckled at her own observation, followed by Vander. ****  
** **

  Her chuckling was interrupted by a small gasp that left her mouth when she better noticed the machete by his hip and the still fresh blood on his jacket. “Oh my! You certainly had an encounter outside, didn’t you?” She gestured to her husband’s shotgun that stood stationed next to the wall. “If you don’t mind, all weapons and things of the sort should be left by the door. It’s only the polite thing to do.” ****  
** **

  “Does that include my backpack?” ****  
** **

  “Well, do you have any other weapons in there?” Vander asked. ****  
** **

  “No.” Connell answered truthfully. Though he had ammo, he only had it just in case he was lucky enough to find a gun itself. ****  
** **

  “Then I see no issue in you holding onto it.” Viktoriya said confidently. “I know how hard it can be to be separated from belongings. However…” She eyed his jacket again. “How would you feel about being away from your jacket temporarily?”  ****  
** **

  He blinked. “Huh?” He said, rather dumbly. ****  
** **

  “If you want, I could have that cleaned for you. Partly because I don’t want the smell. But of course, to help you out just a little more.” ****  
** **

  He felt his face flush ever so slightly. “O-Oh that’s- you’re too kind but you don’t have to-” ****  
** **

  “Nonsense!” She chirped. “It’s the least we can do while you’re here.” ****  
** **

  Connell began to say something, but it was too late. Viktoriya looked over her shoulder and towards where she came from. “Wyatt?” She called in a cheery tone. “Please be a dear and come down as soon as you can.” She turned back to Connell, clapping and holding her hands together. “He’ll be down in just a moment to help you out with that. But until then,” She opened her arm towards the entryway leading to a sitting area. “We were just about to have dinner.” ****  
** **

  As the couple began to walk, Connell silently followed close behind, still in a dazed autopilot mode. ****  
** **

  Though they didn’t stop in the sitting area, he took the time to marvel the interior of that room too. Regular loveseats mixed with armchairs and a single lounge sat near a large fireplace and in front of a large set of windows overlooking the dark, gloomy backyard. Everything from the cushions to the carpet beneath the seats looked expertly taken care of. ****  
** **

  “As you can see,” The hostess began, noticing Connell’s amazement. “We did not let the apocalypse give us an excuse to stop caring or to stop taking care of ourselves or our home. The dead may now be up and moving, but we didn’t let that deter us.” ****  
** **

  Their guest gave one final look to the backyard, noticing a gate leading out that way too, before continuing to follow them.  ****  
** **

  It turned out to be one showcase after another as they entered the dining room. More candles lined the long, neatly set up table. All the chairs were pushed in and tablecloth didn’t have a single wrinkle to it. ****  
** **

  “You may sit wherever you like. Except, of course, at either heads of the table. Those are our spots.” Viktoriya explained. ****  
** **

  Vander had already sat himself down on the far side of the room. As he did so, still standing, Viktoriya’s eyes slightly narrowed at Connell, her red painted lips curling up mischievously. Averting his gaze, his face flushed again as he set his backpack down next to a seat closer to Viktoriya. Before he could sit down, he froze, hearing heavy footsteps draw near. The hostess turned to where they came from and smiled brightly. ****  
** **

  “Ah, there you are, Wyatt.” ****  
** **

  Connell looked up from the table and blinked. ****  
** **

  He was a taller, larger fellow, at least, compared to Connell. His heavy steps slowed to a stop as he gravitated towards Viktoriya. A large bushy blonde beard obscured half of his face and his long hair was put into a loose bun atop his head. A pair of glasses holding a single small crack to them rested on the tip of his nose and only helped to intensify his already intimidating icy glare. His arms naturally crossed over his broad chest, making it easier to notice how muscular, as well as hairy, they were. The first couple of top buttons to his dress shirt were undone, proving that his hairiness stayed consistent throughout his whole body. ****  
** **

  She reached up and fondly rubbed his shoulder. “Wyatt, this is Connell. Our latest guest for the night. Make sure he is treated as well as possible and start with that jacket of his. It needs a bit of cleaning.” ****  
** **

  Wyatt barely had a reaction to this besides a curt nod. He walked over to Connell and made a hand gesture to show he would help take his jacket. He blinked some more before unzipping his coat and feeling the gruff man carefully slip the piece of clothing off of him. After folding it over his arms, he left without saying another word. ****  
** **

  Connell looked over to see that Viktoriya had already sat down and was silently urging for her guest to do the same. He pulled out his seat and sat down in just a few quick movements. ****  
** **

  “Quite the jumpy man you are, aren’t you, Connell?” She teased, the sound of his name on her lips sounding nearly intoxicating. ****  
** **

  He stuttered, only proving her point. “Ah, not trying to be, ma’am. I guess I’m still a bit...on edge.” ****  
** **

  She pursed her lips together as her brows bumped together. “Well there is no need for that anymore. You’re safe here now. And,” That sneaky smile returned. “Drop the ‘ma’am’...’Viktoriya’ works just fine.” ****  
** **

  He nodded. “O-Okay.” He couldn’t help himself. He nervously glanced over to Vander, who merely responded with a soft smile, seeing no issue with the situation.  ****  
** **

  “Are you hungry, Connell?” She continued. ****  
** **

  “Yes.” He huffed out. “Very much so.” ****  
** **

  “Good.” She sounded satisfied with his answer. “Because we have a great dinner planned and I didn’t want to even think about leaving you out of it.” ****  
** **

  “I haven’t had a good meal in...well...forever so, I am beyond thankful for that.” He could still barely believe this was happening. ****  
** **

  That’s when Vander spoke up, having to raise his voice a tad to be heard. “Think nothing of it. We’re just being neighbourly.” ****  
** **

  “Exactly.” She sighed. “Just like my husband says,” He could feel the end of her foot slightly nudge his leg. “Just being neighbourly.” ****  
** **

  It had to be on accident. He looked at the hostess out of the corner of his eye and felt chills to see her looking right back. Looking back, he jumped a bit to see Wyatt walking out from the opposite walkway, holding two plates. He placed them both in front of either owners of the house before returning to the kitchen. Connell let his eyes wander to Viktoriya’s plate and felt his mouth begin to water. Large cutlets of meat sat in the center, raw and boiled vegetables circling it as some sort of sauce coated the meat. It smelled heavenly and before he noticed he looked down to see the same sight below him. Wyatt stood by the hostess, pouring wine into a cup for her before walking back over to Connell. As he poured the same into his cup, their eyes momentarily met. Connell felt his throat close and his shoulders tense up and it stayed that way until Wyatt was done and looked away. His chest felt heavy and his breaths were shallow, but at least he had a meal in front of him now. ****  
** **

  It could’ve been because he hadn’t had a full meal in years, it tasted unlike anything he had ever eaten in his life. The meat was still hot and juicy and the vegetables brought a level of freshness that had been severely lacking in his life before this. He was worried he’d become full in no time at all with how small his stomach has probably become, but he couldn’t focus on that. Just eat. He wish he had some water instead, but he could feel his lips grow dry so he took a break from the food to take a small sip of his wine. ****  
** **

  As he did, he glanced towards the hostess and nearly choked on his wine in the process. ****  
** **

  One of her hands, holding a fork, absentmindedly stirred a forkful of vegetables in the sauce as the other hand slightly pulled and tugged at the small strap of her dress before letting go and letting it drop off of her shoulder. The sneaky smile still tugged at her lips as she looked at him. Without thinking, his eyes darted over to Vander, however he was too busy with his own meal to notice. He risk looking back and blinked in confusion to see that she too was focused on her meal, both straps of the dress right where they belonged.  ****  
** **

  He was going mad. That just _had_ to be it. The sleep depravity, the lack of food before then, the alcohol, a bad blend of all three. Nonetheless, he tried to continue to eat. ****  
** **

  “So, you weren’t going anywhere specific before this?” Asked Vander out of the blue, recalling on their earlier conversation. ****  
** **

  “Um, y-yeah. That’s right.” He muttered. ****  
** **

  “And it’s just you?” Viktoriya asked curiously. ****  
** **

  He hesitated to answer to her. “Y-Yeah. But I wasn’t always alone. Was with a group before. A bad one. It took forever for it to click, but once it did, I knew I had to leave. Ever since then, I’ve just always been on the move.” ****  
** **

  She nodded, her face twisted up in sympathy. “I’m so sorry. But, I hope it feels good to take a break from that, at least for the night.” ****  
** **

  He gave a small crooked smiles. “Yeah...yeah it does.” It took some work but he looked up at Vander, then to Viktoriya. “I-I must thank you again.” ****  
** **

  She waved away the comment. “And I must say that it’s the least we can do. It’s the human thing to do. As they say, sharing is caring.”    ****  
** **

  Vander hummed in agreement. “Couldn’t have said it better myself, darling.” ****  
** **

  A twinge of guilt struck him from within but he tried to shake away the feeling. ****  
** **

  He was just seeing things. That’s all. ****  
** **

  Before long, all parties had finished their meals and only then did Connell notice that Wyatt was standing nearby the whole time, still as a statue. He quickly gathered all the plates and cups in no time at all and retired into the kitchen. ****  
** **

  The hostess let out a tired sigh. “My...as usual, Wyatt proves to be the most excellent of cooks.” She chuckled. “Wouldn’t you agree, Connell?” ****  
** **

  “Yeah.” He sighed too, “It was delicious.” ****  
** **

  “I’m glad you think so,” She hummed and stood up. “Well, I suppose this is where we show you to where you’ll sleep for the night.” ****  
** **

  “Ah, right!” He stood up from his own seat, stumbling a bit as he picked up his backpack at the same time, before standing up straight. ****  
** **

  Vander stood up as well. “You go on without me, dear. I think I’ll be finishing up the night in my office.”  ****  
** **

  “Alright.” She said quickly before turning to Connell with a smile. “In that case, follow me.” ****  
** **

  After walking out of the kitchen and through the living area, he followed Viktoriya up one of the grand staircases and down a hall, giving Connell even more space to marvel at. It was a lot dimmer than other parts of the house, probably due to wanting to conserve candles or electricity. She stopped in front of a door near the end of the hall and opened it up. Connell stepped foot inside and it did not disappoint.  ****  
** **

  A sizable canopy bed sat pressed up against the left side of the room, brilliant maroon drapes hanging from it much like the curtains that hung from the windows. A dark oak closet stood between either large windows overlooking the dark, dead invested woods and a vanity mirror and chair of the same material was opposite of the bed. Natural moonlight shined through the windows, basking the room in a mysterious glow. ****  
** **

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Asked Viktoriya, almost rhetorically. ****  
** **

  “Yeah.” It’s all he could say at this point. ****  
** **

  “Well,” She began slow. “I guess this is goodnight. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to give any one of us a holler. “ She leaned closer to his ear, her now hushed breath hot against his skin. “Especially me.” ****  
** **

  Without another word, she shut the door, leaving Connell on his own. ****  
** **

  Even with his backpack still on his shoulders, it felt like a heavy weight was finally lifted off of his back. When he dropped his bag to the floor, that sense of freedom grew stronger. He sat himself down on the extremely comfy bed, mostly to reflect. The whole situation was still so fuzzy and dreamlike for him. It almost hurt him when he tried to think more about it and sitting there, all the weeks, months, years of not having a good night's rest caught up with him at once. He lazily pulled off his boots, followed by his shirt and pants, leaving him in his boxers. With that, he flopped backwards into the bed, feeling him sink into the cushioning. ****  
** **

  And it probably would’ve knocked him out enough for him to sleep through the whole night if it weren’t for one thing. ****  
** **

  He must’ve only been unconscious for about thirty minutes before a small noise woke him up. Living the life he now did, he had to learn to be a light sleeper as to not get himself killed in the night. He slowly sat up, groggy and confused, a small slur of unintelligible murmurs leaving his mouth before he completely shut himself up at what he saw, his eyes flying open wide. ****  
** **

  Viktoriya stood next to the shut door, clad in what appeared to be lacy and very revealing lingerie. She took a slow step forward, as to not further startle Connell, stepping into the moonlight in the process, directing more attention to her exposed breasts. ****  
** **

  “You really were exhausted, weren’t you?” She said softly. “You poor thing. When was the last time you’ve slept well?” ****  
** **

  As expected, his brain refused to cooperate with his vocal cords and all he could do was babble fractured statements, his face on fire and his heart refusing to go unheard. ****  
** **

  While she stepped forward, Connell frantically scooted backwards, cringing at his head suddenly hitting the backboard. She tilted her head and pursed her lips in confusion. ****  
** **

  “Are you alright there, sweetie? That looked like it hurt.” That’s when she sat on the bed and tried to lean closer. “Let me see if it left a bump.” ****  
** **

  Connell desperately tried to look anywhere else, but failed miserably. ****  
** **

  She frowned. “Why won’t you look at me? I went through the trouble to look extra good and you won’t even look.” ****  
** **

  “Y-Y-Your- Your hus-husband.” He managed to choke out. “I-I ca- I can’t.”  ****  
** **

  She paused before chuckling as if it was the most absurd thing she’s heard all night. “My husband? He’s out cold. He would have no idea. Besides-” She slipped her hand over his thighs, then between them. “I know you don’t care about him. You weren’t about to let him stop you.” ****  
** **

  His heart still continued to hammer, sending out blood to other certain body parts in the process. ****  
** **

  She leaned close to his ear like before, pressing her chest against his, sending more shivers down his spine. She spoke quietly. “I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you.” She grabbed his hand and placed it on her hip to better encourage him. “I just had to have you. It was driving me wild.” ****  
** **

  He wanted to resist, he really did, when he felt her trace her tongue over his earlobe and slid a hand into his boxers, he could no longer control himself. ****  
** **

  He intended to end the night sleeping like the dead, but instead, moans filled the room loud enough to wake the dead for miles.

****

  Dull and murky sunlight beamed into Connell’s temporary bedroom and though it wasn’t especially bright, it was still warm against his bare skin. Once it clicked for him that he was awake, he lurched forward, gasping for air, eyes wide. He looked around as he tried to re-piece together his situation. It took a few minutes, but it all came flooding back to him. Where he was...what he _did._ Guilt, as well as panic began to sink it, but it was quickly interrupted when he noticed he was alone. Besides him on the nightstand stood his folded up clothes, including his jacket, which was now spotless. When he stood up, he also noticed a note laying on top of it all ****  
** **

_“When you’re awake, please come down to the sitting room ASAP”_ ****  
** **

  The writing was in neat cursive and at the bottom, there was a red kiss imprint. ****  
** **

  He wish he had all the time in the world to panic, but he felt like there would be consequences for not obeying the orders of the note. He wasted no time in getting dressed and pulling on his backpack as well. ****  
** **

  It took some more courage, but he eventually left his room. ****  
** **

  The whole house was bathed in a warm orange light. He honestly couldn’t tell if it was early in the morning or worse, nearing sundown. ****  
** **

  He raced down the stairs, careful not to trip and made his way into the sitting room just like the note said. It was so fast he didn’t even notice the missing machete and shotgun that once stood near the front door.  ****  
** **

  Surprisingly, he was the only one in the room it seemed like. No sign of Viktoriya, Vander or even their silent help, Wyatt. Looking outside, he could see the contents of the backyard much more clearly. He had no idea what prompted him to do this or even where this boldness came from, but he slowly opened the back door leading out and stepped outside. ****  
** **

  The warmth the light, as expected, was more powerful outside and only after he took the short time to bask in it did he decide to better investigate his surroundings. A few lawn chairs and a table sat on the marble patio under a closed umbrella and a smallish shed stood near the gate but other than that, it was barren. No other signs of human life. He walked down the stone pathway and up to the gate, eyeing it up and down unsurely. ****  
** **

  “Ah, you’re finally up.” ****  
** **

  He whipped around to see, sure enough, Viktoriya and Vander. Their late night formal attire was swapped out for more active and outdoorsy wear, which looked especially strange on Viktoriya. Laced up hiking or combat boots, sturdy jeans and camo. As if this didn’t already have him warry, they were both armed and he wasn’t. ****  
** **

  “Yeah…” He muttered, gaze shifting between the two. “How- What time is it now?” ****  
** **

  “Well, it’s hard to get a precise time, but if we were to guess-” Vander glanced up at the orange tinted sky. “Around 6 in the afternoon.” ****  
** **

  His mouth went dry. “Jesus…”  ****  
** **

  Vander chuckled. “Yes, you certainly did sleep for a while, but that means that now, your energy must be fully replenished or close to fully, at least.” ****  
** **

  Viktoriya stayed silent, though she wore a knowing smile all the while. ****  
** **

  “Anyhoo,” Vander hummed, checking his gun. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re up.” ****  
** **

  Connell though he was starting to understand what they meant. “Ah, r-right. You said I could only spend the night and- I’ve more than overstayed my welcome at this-” ****  
** **

  Vander chuckled, shaking his head before looking back up. “Sure, that’s part of it. But you don’t know the whole picture. We may have done this out of the kindness and generosity of our hearts, but we aren’t a charity service. We expected to be fairly compensated for our services.” ****  
** **

  His mind raced and without thinking, he tore off his backpack and began to look through it. “I-I may have some supplies I could give. I mean- for what you did, I’d be willing to-” ****  
** **

  Something seemingly clicked within him and his blood ran cold and his hands began to shake. He tore his eyes away from his bag and up at the host and hostess. ****  
** **

  “This…” He began in a low tone. “Is this...you know, don’t you?” ****  
** **

  Vander tilted his head, eyes narrowing. ****  
** **

  He gulped. “You know...what happened between me and your wife...that’s what this is.” ****  
** **

  They stared at him for a moment before looking at one another. When they burst out laughing, he knew something was seriously wrong. Viktoriya fanned at her eyes while Vander stood hunched over, trying to catch his breath. They were soon able to compose themselves, but they still wore these wild grins. ****  
** **

  “Oh my god.” Vander sighed, wiping away a forming tear. “That was very good. I have to commend you on that.” ****  
** **

  The fact that he wasn’t angry only had Connell more fearful that before. “Wha-?” ****  
** **

  “I don’t care that you slept with my wife!” Vander said bluntly, still smiling. “We would still be confronting you with this form of payment.” ****  
** **

  “Slow down, my love.” Viktoriya finally interjecting. “We haven’t even told him yet.” ****  
** **

  “Ah, forgive me. You’re right.” He tamed his smile as he took a deep breath. “She is right.” ****  
** **

  He turned his head back towards the house, letting out a low whistle. In the matter of a few seconds, Wyatt came out from the house, decked out in his own outdoor gear and as he grew closer, Connell saw him holding his machete, along with a few other weapons. Once he slowed down his stride to stand with the other two, he tossed the machete to Connell’s feet. All he could do was stare at his weapon then up to the trio in confusion. ****  
** **

  “There is always a price to pay when staying with us.” Vander started strongly. “And that price is to play a very special game with us.” He looked over to his wife. “Dear?” ****  
** **

  Her knowing smile only grew once things were handed over to her. “The game is simple.” She pointed outside the gate and into the nearby woods. “After unlocking the gates, you have free-range over the entire woods. You are free to do whatever and go wherever during the time given while we stay here. However, once the time is up, all three of us will go into the woods and try to hunt you down. If we win and find you, the price is your life. If you manage to escape us, your reward is ability to live to die another day. And since we stay true to our word, you are guaranteed a full hour until we begin our hunt.” She slipped off her glasses, allowing her stare to fully penetrate Connell. “Any questions?” ****  
** **

  Though he had just woken up, he felt as if he was about to pass out on the stop. His knees wobbled while his mouth completely dried in the matter of seconds. His vision threatened to fog and spin as he tried to wrap his head around their words. Why wasn’t this all a hallucination? The house? The food? The sex? Why couldn’t it all have been just a figment of his imagination? Why’d he have to be saved? Why couldn’t he have been left to the fate of a hoard of walkers? So many questions, but he knew there wasn’t a single answer to any of them. ****  
** **

  “Why?” It was barely a whisper. ****  
** **

  She clicked her tongue. “Though that _is_ a question, I meant questions concerning the rules.” ****  
** **

  Connell shook his head, feeling his eyes sting and water. ****  
** **

  She rolled her eyes. “Typical.” She pushed past the trembling man and unlocked the gates, pushing them open before returning to her husband’s side. ****  
** **

  His gaze couldn’t focus on just the gate, his bag or the other three, so it shifted between all of them, not believing a single thing he was hearing. ****  
** **

  “Should feel so lucky that we gave you back your weapon.” Viktoriya hissed coldly. “Now...go. Time has started. Tick Tock.” ****  
** **

  It felt like his heart was about to explode. He decided to look to Wyatt with pleading eyes. A part of him expecting nothing in return and he was mostly right...mostly. The scruffy man looked to his bag and weapon then to him. He then slightly jerked his chin towards the gate, urging him to go. ****  
** **

  And that was it. ****  
** **

  With a few swift movements, he grabbed his backpack, throwing it over his shoulder, followed by his machete before sprinting out the gate and towards the woods.

****

  Blood pumped harshly and loud in his ears as he ran. He knew that it wouldn’t be long until he fully exhausted himself from running, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was getting as far away from the mansion as humanly possible as fast as humanly possible. About halfway into the woods, he gave up trying to hold onto his backpack and completely left it behind, it slowing him down way too much. All he had was himself and his machete. He doubted its ability to defend off his future attackers as he saw they all had guns and he didn’t. ****  
** **

  Couldn’t think about that. ****  
** **

  Only survival. ****  
** **

  It would be bad enough if he only had to worry about the trio, however, the two or three walkers he had encountered while running proved otherwise.   ****  
** **

  He cursed himself as he felt his legs grow weak and slow. He couldn’t slow down or stop. Not now. He had no way of knowing whether his time was up or not or if they were on their way to find him yet. The orange in the sky was beginning to disappear and dissolve into light purples and blues. Daylight wouldn’t last and he had to figure out a way to use that to his advantage. He grinded his teeth in frustration when he remembered the flashlight Vander had when he first found him and there was no way it was just him that had one. He had nothing. At least, nothing compared to them. Fingers pulled and tugged at his hair as he wanted to scream but he couldn’t make anything come out, both out of fear and how dry his mouth was. Everything from his legs and throat ached and his eyes burned from the tears. Everything was wrong and he couldn’t do anything about it. ****  
** **

  Stuck...in every sense of the word. ****  
** **

  He looked around frantically. Trees and bushes for as far at the eye could see. But no artificial lights. No humans. No walkers either. Just him. He was alone again, but not. He was far from alone. His mind swelled and pounded as thoughts bashed against all sides. Too much was happening and not enough of those things could actually help him. At this point, all he could do was hide. Be still and hide. Pray too. Pray and hide. He just repeated those words silently to himself, hoping it would help to calm him down. It didn’t. ****  
** **

  He leaned against a tree. The exhaustion was close to taking over him, but he couldn’t give up. Not now. ****  
** **

  Just as he worked up the courage to take another step, he felt cold, metal teeth clamp over his foot. He couldn’t stop the loud scream of pain from escaping him as he collapsed on the cold dirt. Though it was dark, it was impossible not to see the shiny, reflective blood that gushed and poured out of his foot and splashed onto the bear trap wrapped around his ankle. He cried harder as he tried desperately to open it back up. It proved to be a fruitless attempt as his fingers quickly became too raw and slick from his own blood to get a firm grip. It almost made it more painful when he tried opening it, so he eventually gave up. ****  
** **

  He never considered the overused saying of someone’s life to flash before their eyes when in a dangerous situation to ring true at all. But in that moment, he realized overwise. ****  
** **

  So many regrets in so few seconds. ****  
** **

  So many missed opportunities. ****  
** **

  He heard nearby crunching footsteps as his crying worsened. All he could do was loudly beg to whatever or whoever was out there. ****  
** **

  When he looked up, his cries grew more violent as he shook his head. He could barely understand his own words.  ****  
** **

  The silent server of the couple stood over him, gun in his hands. ****  
** **

  Connell screamed his vocal cords raw. ****  
** **

  Wyatt finally made eye contact with him as he raised his gun. ****  
** **

  “I’m sorry…”


	2. Dream a little dream of me

  Though it had been getting harder and harder to precisely tell the time over the years, as Wyatt stood in the makeshift kitchen area in the cellar, drenched in another man’s blood, carrying his limp corpse, he had a rough estimate. ****  
** **

  Eight to nine in the evening.   ****  
** **

  After all, when it came to his practices, they usually happened at sundown or late at night, right after a hunt. ****  
** **

  It was the room he’s been in the most asides from his own room and it showed. Though he tried to keep the place tidy, faded remains of blood stains covered the floor, work table and sink. It was beyond dingy, but Viktoriya and Vander made sure to keep the space well lit so he could do his best work. The fluorescent lights flickered and buzzed above him but never once threatened to burn out. ****  
** **

  He let out a heavy sigh and grunted as he dropped the body onto the table in the center. The clattering noise it made would’ve been sickening to him if he weren’t completely numb and used to it. After shrugging off his blood stained parka, he switched it out for a clean, white apron. Well, a once white apron. At this point, it looked more pink from all the washed blood that refused to fully go away. There wasn’t a whole lot of blood that got on his hands while dragging the body in, but nonetheless, he flipped the nozzles of the sink and scrubbed away. He knew it would be a matter of time until they became filthy again, but it was no excuse to be lazy. He dried off his hands, snapped on some rubber gloves and pulled out his tools to place besides the table. ****  
** **

  Time to get to work. ****  
** **

  To start, using scissors, he began to cut and snip the clothes off of him, which he tossed into the nearby garbage can, until he was fully nude. Other than the mangled foot and blown out brains, no other part of the victim seemed too badly damaged. There was bruising forming around the still intact ankle and side of the torso, most likely due to when he twisted his ankle and slammed against a tree as he fell thanks to the bear trap. He also noticed subtle bruising around the neck and the unmistakable sight of bite marks. But he knew those didn’t belong to any walker. ****  
** **

  His eyes narrowed as he leaned closer, moving the head back and forth to get a better look at them. He sneered before pushing the head to the side so what remained of his eyes wouldn’t stare back at him.  ****  
** **

  With a dying marker and a steady hand, he drew a series of dashed lines up and down specific parts of the corpse. Though he could easily cut and slice through the flesh without the lines, he mostly did it out of habit from when he was first learning. Clearing his throat, he pulled a surgical mask over his face and picked up one of the many scalpels so he could truly get started. ****  
** **

  Just as steadily as he drew the lines, he traced them with the scalpel, hard enough to cut through the skin, but light enough as not to potentially damage any of the organs that laid beneath. Once all the cuts were made across the chest and stomach and he grabbed a small handful of pins from a dish on the side table, he started to peel away at a large section of skin. As expected, it was slick with blood and took a bit of effort to really peel away as it made all kinds of squishing and bodily noises. Finally tearing it off all the way, he used the pins to keep the skin from slouching or falling back in on itself. He did the same with the rest of the sections of skin until his chest and stomach were completely open and the contents within could be seen by the world or at least, by Wyatt. ****  
** **

  He eyed all the organs trapped within the rib cage before shifting his gaze to the bin of ice he prepared the night before. Once he looked back, he replaced the scalpel with a small hammer and began to carefully chisel at the bones, breaking it piece by piece and dropping each one off to the side. With all the parts of the ribs gone, each organ was now ripe for the picking. He started with the heart, then the lungs, followed by the kidneys and spleen, dropping each one into the cooler, one by one. The intestines were always the trickiest. He usually tossed them for whatever walkers found themselves wandering around outside and only really used them if they were running low on meat. Tonight, they weren’t, so into a separate bin the intestines landed in with a slimy thud. ****  
** **

  Once the body was essentially hollowed out, this left...well...everything else. ****  
** **

  He replaced his tool again with a carving knife. ****  
** **

  He sliced and skinned away at the thighs first as he saw the most meat there among first glance. After slicing each fatty piece, he laid them out on the covered counter next to the sink. The strong smell of raw meat and iron that wafted around the room could make a grown man’s nose sting and eyes water but at this point, it was but a mere tickle to Wyatt’s senses. He gathered an impressive amount of meat from the thighs alone but he knew it wasn’t enough. He continued with the calves and saw that the rest of meat on the legs would not be worth the hassle in skinning. Though the arms were firm and bigger, he could only gather so much from them. ****  
** **

  His eyebrows furrowed at the pile. It was far from a small pile, however it certainly was below average for what he was usually able to collect from bodies. All he could do was hope it would be acceptable enough. He wrapped up the meat in some paper, took off his apron and gloves and washed off any extra blood that splashed onto his arms. The body and intestines would be disposed of in the morning, but as for now, his priorities laid in getting all the meat and organs back up to the kitchen. ****  
** **

  His boots stomping with each step, he went up the cellar stairs and pushed open the doors, the cold night air wrapping around his face and neck as he stepped outside.  ****  
** **

  His attention was immediately caught by the small group of walkers gathered outside the fence, draw by the commotion caused by the hunt earlier. They snarled wildly, pushing their mangled arms though the spaces of the ornate fence, trying desperately to grab Wyatt despite being meters away. He didn’t give them a second glance before entering the house through a side door leading into the kitchen. ****  
** **

  “And what goodies do you have for us tonight, Wy~?” ****  
** **

  He had barely set the wrapped up meat and container of organs on the counter when he heard a more than familiar sickly sweet tone from behind him. He took a deep breath before turning around. ****  
** **

  As expected, Viktoriya stood right behind him, garbed in her usual revealing night attire. The bathrobe that draped over her shoulders did a poor job at covering up, but it obviously wasn’t what she was going for in the first place. ****  
** **

  “Vander is up in his office.” She asked, just in case he was wondering where the other half of the pair was. He wasn’t.  ****  
** **

  He did a bit of a half turn back to the counter, as to not block her view as he unwrapped the paper and opened up the container. She walked up next to him and inspected the collection of the night. ****  
** **

  She tilted her head. “Hm...well the organs look beautiful, but the meat itself...it definitely is not as plentiful as it usually is after one of our hunts. But, it’s still quite a lot, plus, we still have leftovers from our last guest so,” She looked up at him, giving a bright smile. “Excellent work as always, Wyatt.” ****  
** **

  He nodded, unable to give even a faux smile in return. Her smile softened as she reached up to cradle his face with a single hand, thumb stroking across a small scar near the corner of his mouth. He barely reacts to it, not a blink out of turn or an irregular breath to be heard. She doesn’t say anything at first, seemingly trying to find the thing to say in Wyatt’s eyes. Her thumb then traced over his jaw, feeling his beard hairs bristle against the skin. ****  
** **

  “You should trim your beard a bit when you can. It’s beginning to grow scraggly. Not quite your worst look, but you could be looking so much better.” She ended the suggestion with a small, quick tug on his check, only then getting a reaction out of him, coming in the form of a barely noticeable grimace. ****  
** **

  Without a second word on the matter, she spun around on her heels and promptly left the kitchen. Even after she left, Wyatt watched the doorway for an extra few seconds before returning to his nearly finished work. He placed both the meat and organs in the fridge and made a silent mental note to himself that he would try laying out some of the meat in the sun early the next morning to dry out. But after that, his work was complete and just in time too as a wave of exhaustion washed over him.  ****  
** **

  He sighed as he tried to keep his eyes open long enough to get to his room, which he trudged up the stairs to get to. ****  
** **

  Far right hallway, first door on the left. ****  
** **

  Just like how it’s been for five years now. ****  
** **

  He pushed open the door and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him as he looked around. Every bedroom, save for the master one belonging to Viktoriya and Vander, had essentially the same layout. ****  
** **

  Canopy bed. ****  
** **

  Maroon curtains over giant windows overlooking the forest. ****  
** **

  Dark oak wardrobe and vanity mirror.  ****  
** **

  He let another heavy sigh as he walked over and sat on the edge of his bed. He tore off his boots and tossed them to the floor followed by his shirt and pants. As usual, his feet ached and so did the rest of his body at the end of a tough day’s work. It had only been two days since their last visitor before this one showed up. There was usually a longer stretch of time in between each guest and he barely had time to recharge from the last one. More people were getting brought in in the recent years, months even. He’s assume over time, people would be less trustworthy, less willing to follow some stranger into a seemingly perfect mansion. He thought people would grow to be smarter than he was all those years ago. Yet he was proved otherwise time after time.  ****  
** **

  A part of him wished he could warn them but… ****  
** **

  He pulled off his glasses and placed them on the nightstand, his world plunging into a blurry blue mess. He took the opportunity to rub his tired eyes before laying down, only bothering to drape one of the blankets over his leg in a vain attempt to cover up. He knew he’d kick off all the covers and blankets anyways. But once his head hit the pillow, he could already feel himself growing more at ease. ****  
** **

  It was the kind of tiredness where you just couldn’t fall asleep quick enough. The kind where you feel like you’re gonna pass out but the moment you lay down, your mind still has more to say. ****  
** **

  Wyatt couldn’t have been less interested in what his mind had to say in the late hours of the night. All he wanted was sleep. ****  
** **

  And before he knew it, he got his wish.

 

  Though sleep was one of his few escapes in life, he wasn’t truly safe in his own head. The dreams most people had were grounded in fiction. They may have felt real in the moment but when they would wake up, they could look back and laugh at how ridiculous they were. Even the more realistic ones had an air of mystery and uncanniness to them. ****  
** **

  Not Wyatt’s dreams.

****

_ Can barely see a thing with all this light and haze, but I know my car when I’m in it and I know the driver’s seat even more. I don’t think I’m driving. Would be really irresponsible of me considering this blunt and all this smoke. Fuck, my eyes burn. Did they always burn this much when I smoked? _

****

_ “-Really happened! I swear to god!” A voice cut though. I feel dizzy. _

****

_ When I looked over, I swore I could feel my heart do backflips, somersaults, hell, the whole routine of a professional gymnast.  _

****

_ I can still remember his smile so vividly. _

****

_ “Bullshit.” Is that me talking? Doesn’t sound like me. Can’t even feel my lips moving. Too focused on a different pair of lips. _

****

_ The passenger shook his head, leaning his shoulder into the seat to get a better look at me. God, he’s beautiful. Is he talking? Can’t tell. Why is he reaching out? _

****

_ I feel my hand go up and pull the blunt from my mouth and pass it to him. _

****

_ Oh. _

****

_ Oh god, please don’t look at me like that. Not with those smoky lips and eyes. Please. It’s not fair.  _

****

_ He only took two puffs before leaning in. He’s closing his eyes and smiling. _

****

_ Am I crying? _

****

_ It’s not fair. _

****

_ How can smoke and metal taste so amazing? It should be gross. You should be gross. But you’re not. _

****

_ I miss it. _

****

_ I miss you. _

****

_ “I miss you.” Why’d I have to say it? Stop doing this to yourself, fuckin’ dumbass. _

****

_ His head rested against mine but he stayed quiet. _

****

_ Please say something. _

****

_ Anything. _

****

_ I need your voice. _

****

_ Replace the voice I have to put up with in my head every day. I’d give anything to think in your tone. _

****

_ “Get better at aiming then.” _

****

_ You asshole. _

****

_ I want so bad to be mad but I can’t. _

****

_ You’re so imperfect. So fucked up. You’re no saint. You’re all these things so tell me why you were the best part of my life. Who am I even without you? I never wanted to imagine life without you. I wasn’t ready. I had no idea what to do. _

****

_ I’m sorry. _

****

_ You deserve so much more than what you got. _

****

_ I wish I could stay with you forever, but how selfish would that be of me? _

****

_ I don’t want to go back though. _

****

_ It’s hell. _

****

_ I’m in hell. _

****

_ Please...just be living a better life than me and without me. _

****

_ That’s all I can ask for. _

****

_ “I love you.” Maybe I shouldn’t say that. _

****

_ “I love you too.” And maybe you should’ve stayed quiet that time. _

****

  Wyatt jolted up from his previously unmoving state, breathing and gasping as if he ran a marathon, sweat dripping down his body. The sweat dripping from his forehead ran down into his reddened eyes, mixing with the tears beginning to form. He groaned as he swiped a hand over his face, trying desperately to dry himself. He kept his hand over his mouth as he sat frozen, staring off into space as he tried to make sense of everything. On certain nights, sometimes if he was lucky, he’d immediately forget any dreams he had upon waking up. ****  
** **

  He wasn’t so lucky this night. ****  
** **

  He could still taste smoke on his lips and hear  _ his  _ infectious voice rattling around in his head. It was always  _ him.  _ Wyatt’s couldn’t tell you about a dream he’s had since all this started that  _ wasn’t  _ about  _ him.  _ Wyatt saw it as some kind of fucked up curse put on him or a bad case of karma. A punishment. As something that maybe he deserved. Whatever it was, he thought by now he’d grow used to it. ****  
** **

  But as he sniffled and felt more tears falling, he knew there would never be a time where he’d be used to it. ****  
** **

  He collapsed back down into bed, this time, pulling a stray pillow close to his body and hugging it tight. ****  
** **

  As he deeply inhaled and closed his eyes, he swore he could smell that cheap cologne he always teased  _ him  _ to hell and back for wearing. ****  
** **

  It shocked him how much he missed it.

****

  It was only a few hours later when the early rising sun shined in through the partly opened curtains and onto his eyes. Now  _ that  _ he grew more used to over time. It was usually the perfect replacement for an alarm clock. It took a bit of extra effort, but he soon opened his eyes, still sore from the tears the night prior. But once they were open, he wasted no time to getting up, discarding the pillow he was still clinging onto behind him and walking over to his wardrobe and drawers to get dressed. ****  
** **

  Once he slipped into his jeans and sweater, he pulled back on the boots he kicked off last night and took a deep breath before exiting his room.  ****  
** **

  He was usually always the first one up and though Vander would follow suit not long after, Viktoriya preferred sleeping in when they had no guests to worry about. Wyatt never complained. It gave him enough time to cook and clean to her liking with no room for mistakes. It was always her he had to worry about. She was the head of the house and called all the shots so if anything wasn’t up to her standards, she’d have to deal with it her own way. Wyatt was lucky Viktoriya grew to be quite fond of him. Then again, it didn’t take Wyatt long to realize how unpredictable she was and because of this, he never truly felt safe being where he was. ****  
** **

  It was certainly better than the world that laid beyond the walls or at least, that’s what he would tell himself. ****  
** **

  Once he made his way downstairs, he promptly got to work. ****  
** **

  Like he remembered to do, the first thing he did was lay some of the meat out to dry in rays of the rising sun. After that, he did some extra cleaning in the kitchen before finally working on breakfast. Unlike the dinners he made, breakfast was usually a lot more on the simple side. Today’s would consist of meat, of course, toast and canned fruit with a cup of coffee. As the coffee began to boil and bubble, he placed the thin strips of meat and slices of bread on a pan and watched as they began to fry. He would eat long after them despite all the times Viktoriya had insisted on him joining them. He didn’t  _ want  _ to grow close to them if he could help it. It was almost impressive how distant he’s been with them and for this long. He’d listen, but never talk. About himself or his past. If ever asked about either of those things, he’d give vague answers or deflect it entirely. He seemed to be working for him so far, but for how much longer? ****  
** **

  “Good morning, Wyatt.” He heard a soft voice cut through the sounds of sizzling meat. ****  
** **

  Wyatt looked over his shoulder to see Vander, already dressed in a casual dress shirt and vest, walk through the kitchen and into the dinning room. Wyatt didn’t say anything but acknowledged his existence with a short nod. ****  
** **

  Soon after Vander sat down at the table, Wyatt came over and placed the plate of hot food and cup of coffee in front of him.   ****  
** **

  Vander sighed, smiling and rubbing his hands together at the sigh of it. He glanced up at Wyatt, still wearing that pearly white smile. “Looks wonderful.” He began cutting the meat. “Viktoriya will love it too. But between you and I, I’m pretty sure she’ll eat anything you cook and I can’t exactly blame her.” ****  
** **

  As Vander laughed, Wyatt remained blank faced. But as he began to walk back to the kitchen, Vander hummed and waved him back to the table. ****  
** **

  “Please, sit with me for a moment.” ****  
** **

  “But I still need to make breakfast for Vik-” ****  
** **

  “Oh before she passed out last night, she told me she’d be sleeping in late today.” Vander explained. “We’ve had a very busy couple of days, haven’t we? She insisted she’d need the extra rest. In fact, I believe you’ll only need to make lunch and dinner for her today.” ****  
** **

  Wyatt didn’t say anything. Instead, he continued to hover between the table the path to the kitchen. ****  
** **

  “So,” Vander sighed, taking a sip of his coffee. “Sit with me.” ****  
** **

  He chose to sit a few chairs away from Vander before meeting his gaze. He also left the talking up to Vander as he had nothing to say himself. It took a few bites of his meal, but eventually the head of the table spoke up. ****  
** **

  “Lately, I’ve noticed that we’ve been meeting and housing more and more guests over the years. I mean, two guests in the span of just a few days? I guess we have our work cut out for us, huh?” ****  
** **

  Wyatt answered with a short nod. ****  
** **

  “And Viktoriya and I both know what a hard worker you are. Saying that, if this increase in guests continues, we will all need to work and prepare for things twice as good as we usual do. Usually, one guest is the norm, but what about those rare cases where it was two or three?” ****  
** **

  Though it was rare like Vander said, it has in fact happened. The night ended no differently with both of the guests being killed and sliced, but there were some hiccups along the way. During the hunt, one of them managed to leave Wyatt with that scar he now carries on the corner of his lip. ****  
** **

  Vander saw how Wyatt subtly stroked his beard and part of his lip. ****  
** **

  “That time, it was only a small scratch and nothing to worry about.” Vander started again. “But there could always be a next time and that next time could be a lot more devastating.” ****  
** **

  He almost sounded sympathetic about the possibility of Wyatt getting hurt again, But then again, he could’ve been thinking about his own skin. Viktoriya’s too. ****  
** **

  “What I’m trying to say is-” He chuckled trying to find the right words. “Like I said, a wonderful worker and I know when you started helping out, it was something you weren’t quite used to. However, it’s been a long time you’ve been with us and you’ve gotten so much better over the years. It’s just that...at times, you can be a bit soft.” ****  
** **

  Wyatt felt his grip on his chair grow slightly tight at that. ****  
** **

  Vander’s relaxed demeanor never changed. “When you killed that man last night, I found you rather quickly after that. Which means I heard what you said to him.” ****  
** **

  Wyatt couldn’t let his stress show. ****  
** **

  “Now, since he was trapped and couldn’t go anywhere, I didn’t really want to think much about it. But like I’ve been saying, things have been changing around here and we need to be more careful. And being careful includes not taking the time to say some final words to the guests. The next time  _ could  _ be the last time if you understand what I mean.” Vander looked up from his plate and smiled to Wyatt. “We wouldn’t want anything to happen to you, now would we?” ****  
** **

  “No sir.” Wyatt said simply. ****  
** **

  “Exactly.” He took another sip of his coffee. “I won’t tell Viktoriya about what you said or about this conversation so don’t you worry about that. Nor will I keep you here any longer so you may continue to do any work around the house.” ****  
** **

  And that’s just what Wyatt intended on doing. He stood up, carefully pushed the chair in and back into the kitchen, not taking a chance in looking back at Vander. ****  
** **

  Sighing, he leaned on the counter cradling his face as he tried to calm himself down. He eventually looked up and began to reach for the now useless cookie jar, carefully lifting up the lid. ****  
** **

  “You can have your cigarette break  _ after  _ you clean the sitting room and my study.” He suddenly heard Vander call from the dining room.  ****  
** **

  After a moment of silence, Wyatt slowly lowered the lid back down. ****  
** **

  It looked like he’d have to have that moment to himself later and even then, it wouldn’t really be just him. ****  
** **

  After all, he got all his cigarettes from Viktoriya and she was a very social smoker.


	3. The less I know the better

   It didn’t take long for Wyatt to finish up all his necessary morning chores and by that point, he was practically dying for a smoke. Upon checking the abandoned cookie jar, his fears of it being empty were confirmed to be true and he knew who he had to go to for extra smokes. ****  
** **

   He eventually found Viktoriya outside on the balcony of her and Vander’s room, still in her revealing pajamas from the night prior. After knocking on the slightly ajar door of their room, Viktoriya looked behind her and signaled Wyatt to come join her outside. The afternoon air was warm and so was the slight breeze that rolled through the forest and up the house. She wasn’t smoking like he expected her to be doing, but the box of cigarettes, matches and lone lighter sat on the side table, just waiting to be used. ****  
** **

   “I assume you went through the supply I gave you.” ****  
** **

   He nodded, now leaning against the balcony. ****  
** **

   “You didn’t go through them as fast as you did last time.” She placed one of the cigarettes in his mouth, struck one of the matches against the box and brought the fire up to the end. “Am I sensing more self control on your end?” ****  
** **

   “Just haven’t had as many chances, I guess.” He explained, not wasting any time in inhaling and blowing out the smoke, sighing in relief. “Like Vander explained to me, we’ve been getting more and more guests lately.” ****  
** **

   Viktoriya sat down, crossing her legs and not caring a single bit what was shown to the world because of it. “That is true, yes. Well, no matter. We’ve got enough of them to spare.” ****  
** **

   Only then did Viktoriya pick up her own smoke and light it up. ****  
** **

   Aside from the slight breeze in the trees, it was a quiet day in the woods. If it weren’t for the obvious and imposing mansion that stood right in the opening, the whole area probably would’ve looked untouched by human hands. This did have just as many disadvantages as it did advantages, but them still being alive was strong enough proof that they’ve been handling themselves well. Not a single walker had been inside the fencing for more than a minute before promptly being killed. As for break-ins...only one larger group had attempted to infiltrate their home and it was during Wyatt’s second year with them. ****  
** **

   Never before had he seen such an absurd amount of human blood at once. ****  
** **

   No one even attempted to approach the back after that. However, Wyatt contributed that to the multiple severed heads they decided to shove in between the spaces of the fence. If any guests happened to be brought in while they were still up, the couple lied through their teeth and explained that they were only walker heads meant to ward off any potential scavengers. ****  
** **

   Needless to say, it worked and they helped in adding to their ever growing supply of food. ****  
** **

   “To think,” Viktoriya began out of nowhere, staring wistfully past the trees. “If I went down but one different path during my life, I could’ve ended up just like them. Wandering a filthy and pointless existence, just waiting until my inevitable death and doing nothing with myself before then. A lamb to the slaughter, more or less.” Her fingers grew tighter around the cigarette. “I would have no purpose and I wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it.”  ****  
** **

   Wyatt stayed silent on the matter. He often thought a lot about where he would be if he had never crossed paths with the carnivorous couple. Maybe he would’ve been better off. ****  
** **

   Then again, maybe he would’ve been dead a long time ago. ****  
** **

   “If anything,” She continued, not needing any kind of encouragement from Wyatt’s end. “Vander and I saved  _ each other  _ from living such pitiful lives. I gave him excitement and he gave me...well... everything else.” She couldn’t suppress a laugh at that one.  ****  
** **

   If asked, Wyatt wouldn’t be able to give you a straight answer on the amount of times he found himself listening to the story of Viktoriya’s life. He just about had it all memorized by this point. ****  
** **

   Her and Vander were apparently high school sweethearts and lasted way longer than people anticipated them to last. While Vander was sort of the stereotypical sheltered rich kid who played too closely to the rules, Viktoriya was far from the same. Every night for her was filled to the brim with alcohol, drugs and whatever else she could stick her nose into. However, she was smarter than people gave her credit for. She just chose to never follow up on that kind of potential she had. She never cared for whatever college she ended up at nor what kind of degree she’d stride for. Instead, she was only here for a good time and a good time only. ****  
** **

   That’s when their paths only then decided to cross. ****  
** **

   No one would’ve guessed in a million years that they’d end up together. ****  
** **

   For their senior year together, they ruled the hallways and did so beautifully. No one would admit it, but people were jealous. They seemed so perfect, both on their own and with each other. Vander’s strengths and potential were greater compared to his wife, however, he continued to stick by her side no matter what through the years. Even when he had the chance to enter a college perfect for his future, he “stooped down” as his parents put it and got into one of the few colleges who even looked Viktoriya’s way. ****  
** **

   This only seemed to grow more perfect with each passing year. ****  
** **

   And then the walkers started appearing. ****  
** **

   Though it was a drastic, life changing event that threw everyone off course, including Viktoriya and Vander, it didn’t take too long until things started falling into place for them. ****  
** **

   It took time, but things returned to being perfect for them. ****  
** **

   Things were just more bloody and gory this time around. ****  
** **

   Wyatt’s cigarette was damn near a stub by the time he tore his thoughts away from the story of their lives. Even after putting out the flame, he continued to lean against the rail of the high hanging balcony. Now the wind was accompanied by the quiet sounds of birds passing by. ****  
** **

   “So strange to see animals like birds still alive, isn’t it?” Viktoriya observed. ****  
** **

   Wyatt nodded, still staring ahead into the woods. ****  
** **

   “Reminds me how long it’s been since I’ve had any bird to eat.” She continued to ponder, mostly on her own. “I can’t even remember what they taste like.” ****  
** **

   “Most of them are probably filled with diseases by now.” ****  
** **

   Viktoriya let out another small laugh through her teeth, wearing a tight smile. “If that’s the case, then I’m more than fine with what we have. Maybe I’ve forgotten what bird tastes like due to all the other scrumptious tastes I’ve been experiencing.” ****  
** **

   Wyatt stayed silent to that comment. Instead, he considered taking another cigarette. But after eyeing the box next to her, he worried trying to take another would result in a few pointy red nails being stabbed into his hand. After finishing her own cigarette, not having to worry about having her hand impaled to the table by imitation pins and needles, she picked up another one and brought it up to her lips. Instead of using one of the few remaining matches, she instead reached for the lighter. With a few small clicks from the intricately made gold colored lighter, she was onto her second smoke of the day. ****  
** **

   Apparently, the lighter was gifted to her by Vander after their first two years of dating. The gifts only grew more glamorous with each passing year from what Wyatt had heard. Even a year before being engaged, Vander took Viktoriya out to look at rings to make sure he ended up picking a ring that suited her needs best. The engagement ring was lovely, of course, but the wedding ring itself was nothing short of breath taking: light gold with tiny roses and deep red gemstones atop the curvy ring that was currently tightly wrapped around her ring finger. Though Wyatt had seen a fair amount of pictures of the fateful day and heard brief mentions of it from both sides of the couple, the wedding had to be so stupidly fairy tale like. He swore the couple had shared more graphic stories concerning the honeymoon rather than the wedding itself. ****  
** **

   “Would you like another one, dear?” Viktoriya asked out of the blue. ****  
** **

   “No thanks.” He quietly said, shaking his head. ****  
** **

   She didn’t seem too bothered by the answer. “I will have supply refilled by the end of the day then.” She peered over to him, giving a sneaky smile. “I might even add in some more than usual for that beautiful kill you performed last night.”  ****  
** **

   “Thank you.” His face remained neutral. “Generous as always.” ****  
** **

   “And don’t you forget it.” She practically sang in between puffs of smoke. “Ah! And while I’m on this streak of generosity-” She wasn’t even fully finished with her cigarette, but she still put it out regardless. ****  
** **

   Standing up, Viktoriya walked over to Wyatt, leaning both against the railing and Wyatt himself while she reached up to cradle his fuzzy face. Her thumb moved against his jaw the same way as it did the previous night. ****  
** **

   “It’s still scraggly.”  ****  
** **

   “Didn’t have time this morning.” He wanted to pull away, but couldn’t bring himself to do so. “Had work to do around the house.” ****  
** **

   She pulled a sad look. “My poor, poor busy man.” Her arm then linked around his and began softly pulling him back inside. “I’m sorry, but I will  _ not  _ be having you walk around the house looking like this anymore. I will be taking things into my own hands.” ****  
** **

   It only took a few short tugs until Viktoriya had Wyatt sitting in front of a mirror in the bathroom connected to the bedroom.  ****  
** **

   As expected, the master bathroom was the largest and most well looked after bathroom of the house. Every spot of the room was spotless from the polished countertops to the tiled floors and clawfoot bathtub that stood atop them. Products that were stored in containers and bottles of the past were all creations made by Viktoriya herself thanks to the greenhouse attached to their home. ****  
** **

   Viktoriya quickly pulled a towel onto and around Wyatt’s neck and chest so he would remain clean through the trimming process. With the help of a washcloth and having to take a seat on the customer’s lap in order to have a good view of what she was doing, Viktoriya got to work on wetting and washing his beard. It was enough to make a grown man blush, but Wyatt remained straight faced as always. She grabbed one of the containers and squeezed some of the mint green liquid-like substance into the palm of her hand. ****  
** **

   “Breathe through your nose and keep that lovely mouth closed, okay?”  ****  
** **

   Viktoriya took his silence as enough of an answer and began to lather his beard. ****  
** **

   “It has this lovely cool mint scent to it I think you’ll enjoy.” ****  
** **

   He will admit that it smelled pleasant enough, but he would never in a million years admit how nice it felt for it to be rubbed into his beard and face. After his face was deemed sudsy enough, Viktoriya went back to washing everything out. Only then did she pull out the small pair of scissors used for such occasions. ****  
** **

   She would pinch small sections of wet hair between her index and middle fingers and carefully snipped the pieces as if she were a professional. As she did so, he noticed her face grow closer to be observant, but if that was indeed her true intention, it didn’t explain the shifting around in his lap she did. ****  
** **

   He couldn’t hold his tongue for that much longer. ****  
** **

   “Why do you still try?” He dared to ask. ****  
** **

   He almost felt his heart stop when her hand movements froze for a brief second before carrying on like nothing happened. She put on a half of a tight lipped smile. ****  
** **

   “Whatever do you mean, Wyatt? Are my skills with trimming not up to par with what you need?” ****  
** **

   “You’re doing a fine job and you know it.” He explained, feeling his breathing slightly hitch upon feeling the small sensation of cold metal scissors slide gently across the top of his neck before continuing to trim. Only then did he realize just how much of a grasp she had on his fate in the moment. “What I meant was...that routine you pull on other men. You still do it to me even though you know it won’t work on me. You know I’m not like the other men who come here.” ****  
** **

   The whole exchange was enough for him to recall one of the very first times she had attempted something like this. Oh how his eyes bulged open in shock at her wandering hands. At her suggestions. At her- ****  
** **

   The tighter her grasp around the scissors got, the more Wyatt wished he hadn’t said anything to begin with. The trimming continued regardless. ****  
** **

   “Force of habit, I suppose.” She answered, barely above a whisper. “Plus, I think it’s every woman’s dream to be someone’s...exception.” ****  
** **

   Staring dead into her eyes, Wyatt thought up of what he could say. ****  
** **

   Even if he could come up with something, it wouldn’t have mattered. ****  
** **

   “Sweetheart? I just came up to-” ****  
** **

   Both Wyatt and Viktoriya swiveled their heads around to see Vander standing in the doorway. ****  
** **

   For a moment, Wyatt’s heart stilled as he observed Vander’s nearly unidentifiable expression. Though no part of him scream anger, the fact that he couldn’t sense any emotion made him more nervous and those scissors were still too close to his throat for comfort. It didn’t help that a heavy silence now hung in the air. There were no gusts of wind nor bird chirps from outside to save Wyatt from such quiet demise.  ****  
** **

   Finally, Vander smiled with tight lips and continued walking inside. “Good morning, dearest.” ****  
** **

   “Good morning, darling.” Viktoriya said just as sweetly as he walked over to her. They shared a quick kiss before Vander stepped back to get a better look at Wyatt. ****  
** **

   “I see Wyatt is finally getting his beard fixed up, hm?” ****  
** **

   “Oh yes!” Wyatt could finally breathe now that Viktoriya was moving the scissors up onto his chin now. “He was just telling me how much it’s been bugging him and practically begged me to help him out.” She turned her attention back to the owner of the lap she was currently sitting in. “Isn’t that right, Wyatt?” ****  
** **

   Would it really be worth it in trying to argue against that? ****  
** **

   “Yeah...that’s right.” ****  
** **

   Vander leaned down and gave his wife another kiss on the temple. “Well, you’re doing an amazing job. He’s already beginning to look like his old self again.” ****  
** **

   “Exactly what I was thinking.” She brushed some of the loose hairs off of his jaw and chin with tender fingers. ****  
** **

   It didn’t even feel like he was another person in the same room as them. Instead, it was as if he were some sort of priceless doll being put on display for others to gawk at. He barely felt real or alive. He had to force himself to blink and breathe due to this sudden feeling of not actually being there. The voices of the couple slowly began to blur and jumble together, becoming nothing more than static to Wyatt’s ears. ****  
** **

   Even his eyesight started to darken ever so slightly. ****  
** **

   Sharp blades too close to his throat. So close gulping would be somewhat of a risk to take. ****  
** **

   He swore the smell of blood still clung tightly to his body and face. The strong taste of iron hit the back of his mouth to make matters worse. He hated how familiar it was to him. ****  
** **

   How it no longer made him gag. ****  
** **

   That’s when a cold tapping sensation on his cheek woke him from his trance. ****  
** **

   He blinked and saw the sensation coming from Viktoriya lightly poking his face with the handle of the scissors. ****  
** **

   “All finished, Wyatt.” She stood up from his lap and stepped back to admire her handiwork. “Why, you look good enough to eat.” ****  
** **

   The two erupted into loud laughter, making sure to obscure their mouths with their hands as if to continue to look presentable in front of an audience who wasn’t even there. Wyatt finally could feel himself breathing normally and though he tried to remain straight faced, he could feel his eyes widen at what she said. ****  
** **

   She sighed deeply, still smiling and bend down to rub his cheek. “It’s a joke, deary. It’s about time you develop of sense of humor if you ask me.” ****  
** **

   The two went right back to laughing when- ****  
** **

   “Actually...can I go have one more smoke?” ****  
** **

   Viktoriya stood back up and her smile grew more knowing as she leaned against her husband. “Of course you can. Once you’re done, however, I believe it’s almost time for lunch. So, don’t take too long.” ****  
** **

   Even after they left the bathroom, along with the bedroom, Wyatt didn’t stand up. ****  
** **

   He had this gut feeling if he were to stand up right away, dizziness would take over him and he’d find himself falling right back down into his seat. Eventually, he finally staggered up and first poured himself a glass of water from the sink. After finishing it up with a few quick gulps, only then did he realize he was sweating. He took his glasses off and although Viktoriya had just dried his beard, he splashed some more water into his face. Looking up into the mirror only added to this sudden sense of unease he had. ****  
** **

   Looking at a face that scarred in a mirror so scarily clean gave him a sense that he wasn’t supposed to be there. ****  
** **

   Then again, he wouldn’t have the faintest idea of where he  _ was  _ supposed to be. ****  
** **

   He returned his glasses to his face and shuffled back outside to the balcony, craving another smoke. He wasted no time in sticking a cigarette between his teeth and reached down for the matches. That’s when the glimmer of something gold caught his eye. ****  
** **

   It would appear Viktoriya just happened to leave her lighter out in the open. ****  
** **

   He dared to pick it up to observe it better, partly worried Viktoriya would suddenly come barging back into her room at any moment. ****  
** **

   He had lived with them for several years, yet this was the first time he was able to clearly read what was engraved into this gift from the past. ****  
** **

   V + V, complete with a heart around it and underneath, in tiny cursive lettering, it read: ****  
** **

_ To my darling Viktoriya, you give my heart a reason to keep on beating. Every beat is for you and you alone _ ****  
** **

   Of course, this has to be seen as romantic to most, but in the context he was living through, Wyatt found it more disturbing than loving. ****  
** **

   He flicked it open and with a single click, a tiny flame sparked to life. ****  
** **

   It wasn’t anything special. ****  
** **

   The kind of flame a single match could create with just as much ease. ****  
** **

   But a box of matches would barely even make a good gag gift, let alone a proper anniversary gift for a loved one.  ****  
** **

   He would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least considering the idea of using such a prized lighter, but he tossed it back down onto the table and switched it out for the matches.  ****  
** **

   He tilted his head back and slowly exhaled. The once strong taste of metal at the back of his throat was instantly replaced and taken over by the even stronger taste of tobacco. After swallowing thickly, he coughed. ****  
** **

   God...he hated cigarettes so much. ****  
** **

   On certain rare occasions, he was allowed a few precious puffs of the marijuana Viktoriya grew separately from the rest of the crops and he would always cherish those fleeting moments like his life depended on it. It’s calming effects were stupidly more effective compared to plain old cigarettes. Through the stinging in his eyes and the mindless giggles that would slip past his lips, it would fool him into thinking that things were okay. Through the colorless smoke, he swore he saw  _ him _ at times. But once it clicked with him and the effects were fading away, that’s when the grief took over. He recalled how during one smoking session, he had practically begged Viktoriya to let him have more. He didn’t remember much other than that, but Viktoriya had claimed that she saw tears in his eyes. ****  
** **

   He didn’t speak a single word for two whole days following the event. ****  
** **

   Before everything was the way it was, they never saw use for cigarettes. Why smoke that shit when you could get your hands on perfectly good weed instead?  ****  
** **

   It made them smile and laugh. ****  
** **

   It made them forget about whatever bullshit they were going through. ****  
** **

   It made his lips taste funny and his movements slow and clumsy. ****  
** **

   It would’ve been embarrassing, but  _ he  _ never seemed to mind. ****  
** **

   Wyatt hissed and winced at the sudden burning pain between his fingers. He looked down to see that in his absent mindedness he accidentally burned himself with the lit end. He resisted the urge to fling it off the balcony into the woods and instead angrily shoved it back in between his teeth. ****  
** **

   “Fuckin’ Christ.” He cursed, glancing at the tiny burn. It barely warranted a reaction due to how small it was, but it still surprised him nonetheless. ****  
** **

   As he continued to smoke, he tried hard not to let his thoughts wander too far again. His eyes instead chose to focus on taller trees out in the distance and ever changing clouds that floated against the sky. It was by all means peaceful and the fact that there was no sign of human life besides their own made him feel better about things. They had more than enough food and although it would be good for  _ them,  _ the mental and physical toll would be unbearable for Wyatt. He could handle the daily cleaning and such just fine enough, but he couldn’t spend night after night slicing and chopping a new body each and every time. He needed breaks and not ones that lasted only a day or two. It’s not like they would immediately die if they went a few days without convincing some poor sucker to stay with them. They had meat to spare and a greenhouse with fruits and vegetables. ****  
** **

   But if given the chance, of course they wouldn’t hesitate to put another victim on the cutting board. ****  
** **

   At this point, it was no longer just for survival. ****  
** **

   It was for pleasure.  ****  
** **

   Maybe it was never about survival in the first place and instead just a convenient crutch to lean on.   ****  
** **

   He glanced down to see how short his smoke had grown. He must’ve been out there for quite a while. After putting it out, he left the balcony, making sure to shut the doors behind him as he did so. ****  
** **

   From downstairs, he could make out the faint sound of music being played on the surprisingly well kept together record player the couple owned. Viktoiya was quite the fan of music while eating, so he supposed now would’ve been the best time to begin preparing lunch for the day.   ****  
** **

   He gave the room one final look before he would retire to the kitchen. ****  
** **

   A sigh escaped past his lips once it clicked with him that he would probably have to clean this room once lunch was over with. ****  
** **

   The blankets and covers on the bed were all messed up and undone, a few stray pairs of underwear hung from the foot of the bed and the floor… ****  
** **

   He got down on one knee to better observe the hard wooden floors and carpet that stretched beneath the bed. ****  
** **

   There, right where the carpet end and the floor began, was a sizable dot of blood. ****  
** **

   He stood back up and left the room, not even breaking a sweat. Blood in this house no longer shocked him, not by a long shot. ****  
** **

   But why there?


	4. Leaf House

   After an uneventful lunch, everyone in the house went about their own business.

   Viktoriya spent the afternoon pampering herself with her homemade products.

   Vander went out to go hunting like many nights before, hoping to bag another unsuspecting victim.  

   Meanwhile, Wyatt somehow found his own little corner of peace in this hell.

 

   The couple had an impressive library nestled away in the back of the mansion that Wyatt often liked to visit when he had free time to himself. The shelves were so high up, they even had a rolling ladder to reach the books flying high above the ground. He probably could’ve read all the books at least once by this point living there, but he mostly stuck with a select handful of favorites. It was still better than what the owners of the library itself had read, which wasn’t a lot. Most, if not all, of the books were gifted to them by family who assumed them to be the scholarly types. They weren’t.

   Wyatt wasn’t exactly a scholarly either, but it all brought him back to his childhood when he used to read a lot. Once he entered high school however, he found himself reading for fun less and less and once he graduated, the idea seemed laughable. He spent most of his free time getting high, playing video games and going out to get wasted.

   Since he could no longer do any of that, he thought to might as well revisit one of his old favorite pastimes.

 

   Upon entering the library, he went right for the window nook overlooking the forest behind the building and the small table that laid beside it. As expected, the small stack of books he left nights prior remained right where he left them. Viktoriya had always insisted that he was more than welcome to take the books up to his room, but he much preferred this tight corner hidden away in the large room. Picking up the book on top of the stack, he ran his fingers and thumb across the leather cover before sitting down on the bench and leaning back on the soft cushioning of the seat.

   The Great Gatsby certainly wasn’t one of his favorites, but he found himself reading it quite often for whatever reason. Perhaps it was out of nostalgia. After all, it was one of the few books he actually remembered having to read in his English class. When he first read it, he hated it. He hated just how alienating it was and pointless it felt to him. He even found more enjoyment from some of Shakespere’s plays, which he knew for a fact most of his classmates hated. 

   Yet here he was.

   He assumed that yes, it was out of nostalgia, but he could also chalk it up to him having a better grasp at what was being said and...what wasn’t being said. 

   Aside from finding it ironic just how lavish it all was written and portrayed just years before the Great Depression, he came to notice things he hadn’t before.

   Maybe it was because he was only looking at the book through the lenses of a man who enjoyed the touch of a man greatly compared to that of a woman, but some things stuck out more than others. The main character’s infatuation with titular Gatsby greatly outweighed the so-called romance he had for Daisy’s friend. There was no way to be able to confirm if those were the intentions of the author, but it didn’t matter to Wyatt. As he would read all the fantastical descriptions of Gatsby from the main character’s point of view, Wyatt found himself somewhat relating to him and who doesn't love a good ol’ relatable character?

   It only made Gatsby’s death hold greater weight in Wyatt’s heart this time around reading it as an adult.

   Though it was so obviously not based on a true story, Wyatt could so clearly and vividly imagine all the grief and sadness the main character must’ve experienced having to go through all that.

   After flipping through and reading a handful of pages, his eyes flickered to look outside. He saw a few walkers standing just outside the fence, wildly sticking their arms through and flailing them around like there would even be a chance they’d end up getting something in the process. Strays such as themselves never did stick around for too long once it would click for them that there was no food for them to be found. At least, no living food, but from the looks of it, all the leftover intestines Wyatt had thrown away the previous night were long gone. Without taking a second glance, he returned to his book, as if he never saw anything when he looked out.

   It truly was insane to think that at the beginning of all this, the very mention of a walker would send Wyatt into fight or flight, but mostly flight, mode and now? They were nothing more than annoying pests to be dealt with as if they were flies or rats. At this point, even if a hoard of hundred would at most be hard to sleep through. It was yet another thing Viktoriya and Vander were proud of, along with all the food they have, of course.

   As expected, the low moans from outside soon obscured into silence and the only sounds that accompanied Wyatt’s quiet breaths were the gentle sounds of pages turning.

   It was almost disturbing how quiet it was.

   It was like he was living in a world without the dead, but so many details of life were changed in disgusting ways that Wyatt couldn’t even begin to explain nor process.

   Feeling his head suddenly begin to cloud, he tried paying closer attention to the words on the paper rather than his own thoughts.

   He signed and pushed his glasses up, rubbing deeply into his eyes and bridge of his nose, as if he could get rid of the thoughts by simply pushing hard enough.

   “There are all kinds of love in this world, but never the same love twice.” He quoted quietly out loud, hoping it would help him return his attention fully to the book. He scoffed, realizing just how much that line stung to hear. “Couldn’t be more right.” 

   He shut the book and placed it on the table beside him, more than done reading. It barely gave him any joy, so it wasn’t much of a surprise when it couldn’t distract him well enough. He got up to return the book to its rightful place and began searching for a different book that could possibly do a better job at keeping him busy.

   The absurd sizes of Stephen King’s books often did their jobs well at making him lose track of time, but that necessarily wasn’t a good thing. Viktoriya didn’t particularly like it when Wyatt was late starting any chores he had to do around the house. Despite most of the clocks being dead by this point, Viktoriya had a pretty good inner clock. She usually always knew just when the sun would set so they could start a hunt. She knew to the second when the sun would be directly over their heads so she knew when to expect lunch and so on and so forth.

   Eventually, he decided he would pick up In Cold Blood. Again, it wasn’t one of his favorites, but it was familiar enough for him to get through. Plus, sometimes non-fiction _ could _ be just as good if not better than some event merely brewed up in the mind of someone. 

   He placed that, along with The Exorcist for good measure, onto the table besides his usual reading spot as he debated whether or not to try sticking his nose in a book again for the afternoon.

   Before he could sit back down, he remembered Viktoriya and could only guess that she would be needing something either then or soon enough.

   As he left the library and began moving through the halls, he thought back to that speck of red besides the couple’s bed. Blood wasn’t exactly uncommon in the house, but it was unusual for it to be there. At first, the idea of asking her what it was from frightened Wyatt. But then it clicked: what could she possibly have to hide anymore? She already openly ate human flesh and seduced and had sex with anyone other than her husband. It’s not like there could be anything worse than that. At least, nothing Wyatt was able to think of on the spot.

   After entering the couple’s bedroom, Wyatt walked up to the bathroom door and knocked faintly.

   “Come in, Wyatt!” Viktoriya sang from inside.

   Slinking in, Wyatt saw Viktoriya standing in front of the mirror, wearing a face mask, filing her nails and being completely topless as she did all those things.

   “Ugh, I am so glad you decided to drop by.” She immediately began to groan. “I have been absolutely  _ craving _ that jerky you made ever since I started putting my face mask on. Could you be a doll and grab me some from downstairs?”

   “Of course.” He answered plainly. “But first, I needed to ask you something.”

   After pausing on her nails, she spun on her heels to face Wyatt, grinning. Staring him dead in the eyes, she slightly began to shake her chest from side-to-side.

   “The answer is yes, they  _ are _ real.”

   Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, his gaze stayed above her neck as he continued. “That wasn’t what I was going to ask.” The disappointment was obvious in her expression as she turned back around to continue working on her nails. “After my smoke break, I noticed a drop of blood by your bed. Are either of you hurt or need help with anything?”

   She paused yet again, but didn’t turn around as before. She only needed a moment to think before the sounds of filing continued. “Oh, you’re too sweet, you know that? I can assure you we are more than fine. It’s just a certain lady’s time of the month. Nothing more, nothing less. But thank you worrying and taking the time out of your precious break time to check up on me.”

   Again, Wyatt had no reason to think she was lying. So, despite her delayed response and strange inflection with it, he turned to leave.

   “I’ll go and get that jerky for you now.”

   “Thank you dear.” 

 

   After checking in with Viktoriya and deciding to be done with his break, he turned his attention to chopping firewood behind the house. The couple adored roaring flames in their multiple fireplaces, so a lot of his chores involved chopping up trees. And despite that being the main reason, Wyatt had a sneaking suspicion that a large part of why he had to do it so often was in part thanks to Viktoriya. She quite enjoyed watching him hack away at wood with an axe. Even during times when he’d take a short break to hydrate, her eyes did more than their fair share of wandering and visual undressing. Only had him more relieved that she was too busy to come outside. 

   Aside from the obvious advantage of being away from the others, he could only spend so much time inside. Despite it being so huge and open, it often felt stuffy and suffocating and the feeling of the couple constantly hovering around him certainly didn’t help. He exhaled deeply as he swung the axe down, the sound of wood cracking into two rather soothing to his ears. Aside from the wind flowing through the trees and the occasional bird call in the distance, it was quiet outside. No more walkers wandered around the perimeter, gargling out in vain as they tried hunting down whatever prey they could find. It was chilling to think about, but in a way, they were rather huge competition to the walkers. Along with being safe from the elements outside, he could only imagine how many potential meals they’ve stolen from their undead neighbors.

   Just as he was about to finish a thought on the matter, he could hear the large metal fence at the front opening with a loud, ear ringing screech. Vander must’ve returned from hunting. Wyatt silently hoped to himself that Vander came back alone as he returned inside.

   “-Dear, perhaps another night.” He could hear Viktoriya coo as soon as he entered the sitting room just in front of the front door. “They sadly cannot all be as successful as we would like them to be.”

   It seemed as if that silent prayer Wyatt had given had come true. All Vander had with him were a few rabbits strung over his shoulder.

   Vander sighed, shaking his head. “Not even anyone in the traps. Just a handful of mangy vermin.” After shuttering, he noticed Wyatt standing nearby and urged him to move closer, holding out the rabbits by their feet. 

   Wyatt silently took them from Vander as he began to slip his jacket off.

   “Perhaps tomorrow we will continue on with our usually good streak of hunting.”

   “One can only hope.” Viktoriya turned to Wyatt, a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Wyatt, would you please be a dear and prepare the meat for dinner? If it isn’t enough for us, feel free to mix in meat from one of our previous guests.”

   “Of course. Right away.” Despite his words, his actions were delayed as he watched Viktoriya return upstairs. His eyes flickered over to Vander who was hanging his coat up. He dared to approach closer.

   “Before I get to that,” Wyatt began, gaining Vander’s full attention. “While tidying up you and Viktoriya’s room, I found a spot of blood on the floor. Do either of you need medical attention?”

   As expected, just like his wife, Vander offered a small smile, thoroughly convinced it was asked out of care for the couple. 

   “Oh Wyatt.” His smile then grew more embarrassed as he pushed back his hair. “No, no, the two of us are just fine. Just wonderful, actually.”

   Wyatt narrowed his eyes down at him, but said nothing.

   “However, if you do happen to spot anymore blood while cleaning, please be sure to clean it up like it was any other mess. Understood?”

   He nodded, now eyeing how Vander was adjusting the collar of his shirt and how his fingers lingered just below his throat before dropping his hands entirely.

   “We truly are lucky to have you around, you know that?” Wyatt felt all the hairs on his arms prickle upwards at once. “So loyal and perceptive. Why, you could probably spot a loose bolt on the gate from a mile away and you’d be able to fix it-” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that.”

   “Thank you sir.” He replied blankly. “I take pride in the skills I’ve learned over the years, both with the two of you and when I worked at a different base.”

   The words he found leaping past his mouth made him want to vomit. Though he towered over the man, he felt beyond pathetic. He could barely recognize his own voice and the things he was saying in order to keep on surviving. Howe’s wasn’t even on the same playing field as this and nothing could have prepared him for the disgusting bubbling that formed in his chest and in his head.

 

_ What would he think if he saw you now? _

 

   Wyatt felt his eye wince and his lip wobble, but Vander thankfully was looking away, finding more importance in his shirt cuffs and scuffs on his boots.

   “Aren’t we the humble one?” Wyatt could feel his back stiffen and even after Vander laughed, he couldn’t even attempt to relax. “Ah, but sometimes one deserves a good boasting now and again. Especially when it comes to someone such as yourself. As I said, we  _ are _ the lucky ones.”

   Vander sighed, glancing around the practically spotless room. “Anyways, I’m going to be in my study until suppertime. Maybe I’ll even take a small nap. That trip around the woods took quite a toll on me.”

   Wyatt nodded one last time.

   Even as the pair were gone from his sight, Wyatt stayed frozen in place, teeth clenched and shoulders tense, as if one wrong move and both would come flying back downstairs to rip him to shreds.   

   He pictured just how much worse it would be compared to if the walkers got ahold of him.

   It wouldn’t be as mindless as if he were attacked by the undead.

   It would be with a furious purpose. 

   A powerful shiver ran down his back and only then did he feel his shoulders drop and his jaw relax.

   By this point, the suspicion that they weren’t speaking the truth was much more than a sneaking one. It didn’t surprise him even slightly. After all, they’ve been able to survive for so long all thanks to their skills in lying, along with their chilling charisma.

   Still...he found it would be pointless in debating the answers they’ve given. Pointless and most likely dangerous. 

   The more he thought about it, the more normal it seemed.

   Blood in the bedroom of the happy couple?

   Just another day in life and he had a dinner to cook.


End file.
